Penelope Stansfield

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2024

Stories (19)

19 Stories

440 karma pts

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“The seventh setting” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #283

For a moment, Hannah stood by her car at the end of the driveway, cold white flakes falling silently around her, reminding her of childhood, when Christmas had felt soft and light, frosted with the essence of secrets and mystery. At the top of the drive, an expensive looking Range Rover belonging to Peter, her brother-in-law, looked down at Hannah’s battered old Renault, which sat meekly close to the roadside, an appropriate distance away from the house.Hannah curled her cold fingers around the handles of the bag of gifts, took a deep b...

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“The small impression that we leave” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #281

Another knock at the door and Susan hastened down the hallway to welcome her friends.  “Come in, Alice, Bobby, oh, I love that dress, wine, oh thank you!” “How are you Susan?  It’s been ages since we’ve seen you.” “Oh, you know, here, give me your coats, Darren, Darren?!  Can you get a drink for Alice and Bobby please?” “Hello you two, good to see you!  What will it be Bob?  Beer, whisky?  G and T Alice?” Darren led Alice and Bobby to the modest, mid-century living room where the other friends and neighbours wer...

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“A Tale to Tell” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #280

”Is anyone sitting here?” Harriet looked up at the older woman standing at the other end of the bench. “No, not that I can see,” she responded, thinking to herself ‘does it look like anyone’s sitting there?’  Her day had been hectic and she desperately wanted to get home. The woman sat down, fussing her fur coat around her, and shifting her ample bosom into place.  “I hear the train to Foschester is delayed, how bothersome.” “Yes, it is, I’m not sure what’s happening,” Harriet glanced at the woman and then resumed her gaze on the d...

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“The Space Behind the Curtains” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #279

“So yeah, it’s all good, just so long as his wife doesn’t find out,” my friend, Lucy, is updating me on her latest conquest.  She always was a one for the boys and now that she’s in her fifties, nothing’s changed, flitting from one bloke to the next, but that’s her way and a sight raising of my eyebrows is the most I ever respond with.  None of us is perfect. “Anyway,” she continues, sipping her flat white spiced cinnamon something or other, “what are you up to tonight whilst Justin’s away?  Got anything planned?” she adds wit...

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“The Blue Envelope” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #278

She grasps for something, anything to cling to, as the maelstrom increases its ferocity, shattering Sophie’s world into fractured pieces. But there is nothing and no one to catch her, and she stumbles downwards, numbed and tortured, further and deeper she spirals, twisting into the dark unknown towards the locked door that she’s never dared approach and whose handle she would never turn. Now the door shudders open on screeching hinges, releasing a tempest that swirls around Sophie’s blinded eyes, her ears deafened by the howling, t...

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“Many a Fool” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #277

Over the centuries, many mortals and fools, have attempted to reach the remote village of Whalescliffe, nestled far between the rocks, forest and sea, protected from the kingdom beyond. Memories of the small hamlet, only accessible from land through the ancient forests, are now lost to time and few have heard stories of the tiny community perched beneath the cliffs, looking out across the cold Elfin Sea. The hidden trails, once woven across the forest floor, are now gone, free from uninvited visitors for longer than living memory. ...

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“Captivating Chaos” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #275

One careless afternoon, Sam had accidentally agreed to attend the ‘Captivating Chaos’ exhibition as suggested by his secretary, and now, despite himself, he was making his way to an unfamiliar part of the city. After leaving his apartment, he’d navigated the bustling city centre where the Saturday shoppers were now transmuting into evening drinkers, flooding the wine bars and bistros. The begrudging light of a grey November day had gone, and the heavy darkness of late autumn settled in the shadows and doorways, too thick for the city’s ...

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“The Rider on the Wheel” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #274

The small shop at number thirteen Temperance Street had stood desolate and empty, ever since old lady Morrison closed down her sweet-shop and died. That had been three years ago, the time it had taken her family and their solicitors to quarrel over the late spinster’s estate, and once a truce had been reached, the little shop was finally sold. So, one damp October morning, after months of rumour and speculation, number thirteen Temperance Street reopened to a curious and suspicious gathering of townsfolk.“Well I’ll be damned if I k...

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“The closeness of shadows” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #273

Shirley had known Agatha for as long as she could remember, inseparable since infant school. So when Agatha suddenly disappeared that June without a word, it felt like Shirley had lost a part of herself, and the months that followed were filled with heartbreak and unanswered questions. But then, five months later, Agatha came back, just as suddenly as she’d left.Shirley was thrilled to begin with, her lifelong friend had returned to their small town and everything that had been disturbed was now slotted back into place, but things ...

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“Visiting Time” by Penelope Stansfield

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #272

This story contains themes of grief, loss, and trauma. Mentions a car accident, death, physical injuries, and emotional pain.Early Sunday morning, the bus station is quiet with just the remains of last night's takeaway wrappers rolling around the stands, like dirty greasy passengers who’ve disembarked but have nowhere to go. The November chill turns my breath into little lost clouds and the slight breeze carries the scent of autumn, tickling my nostrils. Of all the places to be on a Sunday morning, this isn’t what I’d choose. ...

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“Seeing you again” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #271

I can’t express how wonderful it is to be with you again, and to see you looking so well. Time has truly been kind to you. After all these years apart, I had almost lost hope of ever seeing your face again. So much time has passed, yet now, here we are, together, reunited at last.I remember those early years well, watching as your mother raised you from the crib to those first stumbling steps of a boundless child. Your energy and sense of adventure was enthralling, and to watch you laugh and play, your much cherished toys...

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“No one saw and nothing was there” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #270

The autumn day dawned bleak, filthy with festering matter and half-lived souls clinging to existence.  A patchwork of rotting leaves, long strewn by wind and time, formed a sodden carpet over the silent dank streets, where an unnameable void hung in the air, an emptiness seeking to be filled, waiting for what it sought unknown.  Nothing was there on that hollow, thinly veiled November morning, looming in the cracks and crevices, dour and rotten. Nothing had been there the day before, in the unoccupied corners filled only with shad...

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“Agnes Jenkins at the Museum” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #269

Agnes Jenkins, chin slightly raised, smart woollen coat neatly buttoned and black leather handbag tucked firmly over her arm, strode purposefully down the street towards the town museum.  It was grey and quiet that misty September morning, and on reaching the museum, Agnes found the cafe there quiet too.  The summer rush was over and a more sedate atmosphere had been reinstated, as visiting tourists and their easily distracted children were returned to their right and proper places.  Agnes smiled.  She avoided the museum ...

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“The Passing of Miss Hilda Button” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #268

A week after Hilda Button passed away, a notice was placed in the window of the village post office, it read: The funeral of Miss Hilda Button,loved and cherished member of this parish, will be held at 2:00pm on Friday 27th June at St Michael’s parish church.  All are welcome. “Oh, thank goodness for that,” Betty Draper commented to her friend Edith Mahon as they joined the small group of people gathered around the notice, “I was so worried that her daughter wouldn’t bother with a proper service, you know how people are ...

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“Where it ends it begins” by Penelope Stansfield

Submitted to Contest #267

The rabbit lies outstretched at the roadside, one eye open, the other, mangled with blood and fur.  Through the drizzle, a solitary crow cries a mournful ‘caw’ whilst across the landscape, the moorland sheep utter a low bleat of remembrance.  The rabbit, a harlequin of soft brown fur and blood smeared tarmac, gazes up at me with its one dead eye.  I pick up a stick from the side of the road and attempt to move it, to give it a more dignified resting place, amongst the ferns and bracken.  Failure greets me, with half the d...

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Author bio

I've loved to write ever since I can remember, though for many years life had other priorities. Now I'm creating something on the page every day, and finding my voice. I would welcome any feedback you may have. Thank you!

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #272
Visiting Time – read story